Results May Vary
by DeadlyToxic01
Summary: Quinn Fabray: rebel, punk and all around bitch. Welcome to McKinley High. AU! Fusion of seasons 1 and 3. Rating for future chapters.


A/N: Welcome everyone! This story was inspired from Season 3 Quinn -well mostly her looks-. I have not watched season 3 which is why many things may be out of character or sequence. Within my story, I tried to fit season 1 Quinn's personality with Quinn season 3 looks. As for the other Glee members, it will be a cross between season 1 and 2 (considering Quinn will not have been present during those times it will effect a lot of characters' personalities). Couples so far haven't been decided. Please give it a try and tell me what you all think. If you have any questions or concerns about anything please let me know.

Disclaimer: Haha, please. 'Nough said.

Warning: This story is an AU! Meaning anything written will not necessarily be linked and/or directed towards canon.

Read. Review. Enjoy. What fits your fanfiction needs.

Results May Vary

Chapter One: Pink and Wheels

The bell had already rung and she was just getting dropped off to the front of the school. Basically getting pushed out, she dragged her bag behind her as she walked toward the entrance of the stupid high school. Glancing up, her very round, and hip, sunglasses shielded her eyes from the late October sun, the crappy sign of McKinley High School was slightly wasting away as she curled her lip at it. As she walked through the doors the sound of the announcements were cackling through the audio system, the mumbling voice was barely heard over the static. The halls held bright red lockers, that were still clean and free of graffiti; the school year was still young. She smirked to herself thinking of all the fun she could have in a clean and probably preppy school.

Figuring that she was already late, she lazily and slowly found the bathrooms in this place she dubbed her new hellhole. Dropping the shoulder strap of her bag onto the ground as she inspected herself in the mirror. Running fingers through her bright pink hair, clearing a smug of thick eyeliner and reapplying her lipstick, before fixing the way her breast fit into her bra were all part of the bathroom checkup. Giving her reflection a last look, the pink haired girl smirked as she squared her shoulders. Already she was mentally preparing herself to face countless of loser students and lamer-than-thou teachers. Strolling to the principle's office was simple enough; although, somewhere in the back of her mind she memorized the main route to and from this main point. She'd be here a lot throughout the year.

McKinley High's secretary stared at the new comer with bug eyes. She figured her look was a little too out there for a small ass town. The lady stuttered through the introduction of the school, handed her a suitable timetable and bumbled her way through directions of main points of the school. The pink haired girl merely quirked an eyebrow while turning her back to the principle's office. More than likely for her, in the stupid welcome package came a school map. Then again she was carrying a welcome package from a high school, which immediately ended in the trash along with the map. So what? She was late already, like a few minutes to find the class wouldn't make a big difference.

Taking a first look at her schedule she noticed that Spanish was her first class. Meh, she should be fine, she had a Cuban neighbour once and picked up a few things. She snickered, it wasn't exactly school friendly, but it helped to get her point across. Not two minutes later did she accidentally come across the classroom, what horrible luck was it that she actually found it in decent timing. It appeared no kid came to class late since she was the only one in the hallway. Sighing she stomped her way into the classroom intentionally interrupting the teacher mid sentence. Everyone stared. Even the ever so professional teacher was slightly dumbfounded.

"It's called being a new student. Besides anyone tell you it's rude to stare?" were the first words out the new girl's mouth, and they were directed at the slack jawed Spanish teacher.

"Oh right, yes. Sorry," he stumbled over his words clearly caught off guard. "Right, well-I'm Mr. Schuester by the way- so you must be um..." he paused looking down at the list of names he picked off his desk. "Fabray...Luc-"

"It's Quinn. Just Quinn." For added effect Quinn sent him a glare.

Nodding his curly, and seriously gelled, head vigorously, Schuester said in Spanish, "of course, of course. Class I'd like you to meet Quinn. Go ahead take a seat beside Brittany by the window." Holding her pierced nose in the air, teacher couldn't even figure out she didn't know anyone there. Besides why sit beside a chick when there was a perfect seat in the back of the class that was surrounded by guys. One guy in particular caught her eye. A mohawk meant one thing, they were typically her type of people, yet within that same moment the stupid letterman's jacket he wore instantly took that thought away. Shit, he was one of those people. In other words, definitely not her type of people.

Quinn trudged her way to the seat she had picked out for herself. Sending negative signals as she past by the group of jocks, -football players and cheerleaders- how very typical. The stares were continually being thrown in her direction. Pursing her ruby red lips she wanted to ignore them, instead she checked out the ones that seemed to stare the most.

A vaguely familiar Latina narrowed her eyes at Quinn. It was quiet possible that the brunette was her neighbour's kid. Another who seemed to constantly look back at the pink haired teen was a kid with glasses and in a wheelchair. When the kid turned his head once more, Quinn sent him an obvious wink, even from the back of the classroom. There was also a few goody-goodies that seemed to be in shock of her state of dress; however, one in particular was wearing a cheap sweater and knee high socks which spoke volumes of what she must think. The aforementioned mohawk styling teen was one of the boys around her seat. Lastly, was the king of prep himself. The jock jacket with the capital letter "C" for Captain, boyish looking hair cut, dimpled half smile, and a clear look of I'm stupid was practically written on his forehead. Even as Quinn sent the supposed captain a diamond cutting glare, the damn fool continued to smile his lop sided smile.

Spanish could not have finished fast enough. The Schuester, or Mr. Schue -seriously? No one seemed to find her muttering Mr. Schuemaker even remotely funny; smugly, she thought she saw some people's shoulders shaking- kept pointing to students, saying their names out loud as Schue gave her side glanced stares making sure she was paying attention. Faking enthusiasm was part of any student's job description. Last to enter yet first to leave was certainly part of her own repertoire.

From down the hall, she thought she heard someone holler "Herding!". The moment people started to scramble against lockers and walls should have been her first clue to move out of the way. Glancing over her shoulder was already too late. Something had crashed into her from behind and she fell backwards, limbs failing as she crashed into the thing that crashed into her. Quinn had landed in a lap it seemed, and not anyone's lap, the kid from Spanish class' lap. The Schuemaker said his name was Artie something or another. From over the kid's shoulder, Quinn spotted the jocks laughing and giving each other high fives.

"What fucking sweethearts," the pink haired girl sneered in the direction of the 'popular' crowd.

"Sorry, they kind of do this almost every other week or so. It's not like I got much choice either," he waved his hands which were taped down on the arm rests.

"Who said I blamed you?"

"I kinda crashed into you," Quinn could tell if he had his hands free he'd adjust his glasses as he spoke.

Rolling her green eyes, the girl with Fabray DNA hit the guy in the wheelchair, "did you hurl yourself down the hallway and purposely hit me? No, and did you tape your own hands onto your own wheelchair? I don't think so. The moral of the story is the stupid jocks are the ones to blame for this and you just made a brand new friend." Smirking as she stood; Quinn Fabray had made her first friend at McKinley High.

"You're Quinn right? I'm Artie, it's nice to make a new friend." Only after did his new friend help take off the tape did he extended his hand out for her to shake, and she did roughly. The pink hair was blown out of her face, and she noticed that her new friend was surprised when Quinn went in-behind his wheelchair and started to push him to his next class.

The two friends were quiet for a long moment; Quinn unsure of what to say and Artie unsure of what not to say. Artie soon was noticing something about their little trip, she is the new girl meaning Quinn has absolutely no idea where she is going. "Um you should know that my Math class was in the other direction..."

"Oh well," Quinn shrugged behind Artie's head. "I can't really decide if I want to go to class or not yet."

"I am not really one to skip out on classes," Artie replied, trying to act casual and calm when in fact Quinn knew a nervous voice when she heard one.

"That's cool. I ain't really much of a go to class, do the homework kinda girl, but if you're down I will support that. Besides who else would help you fight off those pathetic jocks?" Quinn grinned.

Hesitantly, Artie returned the smile. "You'd be surprised. A few of them actually joined our school's Glee Club. I just know they aren't all that bad."

"Where were they when you were being hurled down the corridor with your hands taped to your wheels?" Quinn said, her pink hair touching her shoulders as she tilted her head.

"It's complicated. They can't always be there at my rescue, besides it's not like they're the ones who tie me up and push me down the hall. Some of them changed when they joined Glee." Artie held a defensive front as he tried to explain the Glee Club's current predicament. "You should join actually."

The girl couldn't help herself, she had burst out laughing. "Sorry, I don't do clubs."

The cripple shrugged, "well if you ever change your mind that's where I'll be. Besides it's full of misfits and outcasts, maybe you'd belong."

They stopped in front of the classroom, only after Artie gave a few instructions. Facing him, Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, "yeah, still don't do clubs."

"It was worth a try. I get it, someone as cool as you doesn't scream 'Glee Club' material. I just thought it would be cool to hang out more and that's the only place I feel people wouldn't stare or judge."

Sighing, there was something about this guy and Quinn wasn't sure what it was, but she found herself saying something she would never thought she would, "I'll see if I can stop by to see what's got you all hot and bothered." The punk attitude slid off her face as she sent him another wink. "Catch you later HotWheels." Turning on the balls of her feet she sauntered away from her new friend.

* * *

A/N2: Hopefully that was entertaining for you, let me know what you thought (good or bad).

As well, I hope everyone has a good New Year!


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